


not for naught.

by queenalyx



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: CAN'T STOP, F/M, M/M, Multi, WON'T STOP, a milkovich cousin???, do not pay me any mind at all, i'm practically writing angsty bullshit, who used to fuck lip???
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-10
Updated: 2015-12-25
Packaged: 2018-04-25 16:15:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4967677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenalyx/pseuds/queenalyx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"letting go isn't as hard as holding onto someone that doesn't want you back."<br/>lip gallagher/ofc.</p>
<p>Or: I'm very sorry, this is probably shit, but first loves and only loves are things to write about.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. photograph // one.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so sorry in advance man.

“I need you to come pick me up.” I breathed into the busted up old Razr, my legs shaking on the platform of the L. Californians have a different idea of what a fucking winter jacket is and I was wearing this flimsy ass leather jacket with a fur-lined collar which provided no warmth whatsoever. That breath of air I took came out as a puff of vapor and I sighed. My hands were fuckin’ freezing out here. It was the middle of fucking January. 

“What? In California? Cuz I ain’t tryna drive all the way out to fucking Startford or wherever to pick your big ass up.” Mickey’s throaty voice rasped into my ear and I could already tell I interrupted a night of cuddling his fucking boyfriend. I love Ian, I sometimes love him more than anyone, but I needed my bestest friend in the world right now. My cousin.

“It’s Stanford Mick. And leave my ass out of this.” I sighed, resorting to walking down the steps that led onto the street. “I’m back in Southside. I didn’t belong there. People were surprised when I started running from the cops instead of sticking around and talking to them.”

“Wait what? Why didn’t you start with that Tav? Okay, where are you?” I looked up and recognized the K&G, sighing. Bad memories dude, horrible really

“The L. At Ian’s old spot. I’ll wait on their stoop but hurry up. My fingers are damn near falling off.” I smiled as I could hearing him muttering cuss words from the other end. Mickey always had my back, no matter what.

“I gotchu, I’m on my way.” I nodded, despite him not being able to see me. I snapped the Razr shut and crossed the street, settling myself on the only spot of the stoop not covered in bird shit. 

~

Mickey got there in ten. I grinned, ear to ear, as I stood up and hauled up all three duffel bags into his backseat. The beat up old family car was immaculate compared to Dad’s old Jeep Cherokee.

I stood on the other as Mick crossed over and pulled me into only the fifth hug we’ve ever actually shared. I’d spent a large portion of our life together getting noogies, wedgies, and nipple twisters. So hugs were for special occasions like my mom ditching us after stealing the money I’d saved up for her rehab when I was thirteen and my returning to the South Side after living with the mcmansion inhabitants of Stanford for five months before bailing out and coming home right after finals. I’d transferred to Chicago Polytechnic and with Lip having ditched us for MIT, I was fine. I was ecstatic even.

Mickey let me go and patted my admittedly large bum, much larger than I like to say most of the time. “C’mon Startford, let’s get you home. You can crash in my bed.”

“Ugh, hell no, not with you and Ian fucking next to me.” I rolled my eyes, buckling my seatbelt once I was in the car.

“It’s either that or Iggy’s room.” Oh my fucking God, no. Iggy’s room smells like seventy dirty diapers, extreme amounts of Axe, and gunpowder.

“If y’all fuck, I’m gonna cut your dicks off and feed ‘em to a street dog.” He chuckled and drove on down the familiar streets until we got to his beat up and shitty ass house. My second home. Ian and Mandy stood on the porch in heavy ass puff jackets and shorts (well, boxers in Ian’s case), smoking cigarettes and apparently waiting for me.

“Stranfloor!” Mandy shouted and I rolled my eyes, grinning at her back as she jumped down the stairs to attack me with hugs.

“Malicious Mandeh!” I shouted back, returning her warm hug and pulling away to look at my cousin. “What’s going on with you and the big black kid? He still fucking with you?”

“What the fuck Ian?” Her whips around to stare at the ginger who shrugs and comes down the stairs to hug me as well. He looks dazed but still here, if you know what I mean. Like my mom when she first started getting high. I was eight but I’ll never forget that look as she snorted a line of coke with me sitting in the bathtub. It was terrifying.

I kept my mouth shut, setting those thoughts aside for a not so happy time. Mickey and Ian helped carry the bags inside and I threw myself on the raggedy old couch. There's a reason he didn't recommend my sleeping here instead, this shit is falling apart. 

Mick got us all a couple of beers and we sat there laughing as I recounted the stories of the fuckheads running around Stanford before Ian spoke up. 

"Wait, what about school? You didn't quit did you?" He asked, sipping his beer and leaning slightly against Mickey. Mandy looked at me with a raised eyebrow as I shook my head. 

"Nah, I transferred out. You are looking at a brand new mathematics major at Chicago Polytechnic so I'm only a train ride away." I grinned again before they all frowned at me. "What? I thought you guys would've been happy?"

There was a beat as they gave each other pained looks, playing a silent game of not it before Mandy spoke up.

"So ... who's gonna tell her?"


	2. waiting game // two.

My dad, as per usual, was buried underneath a car with coveralls practically drenched in grease. He'd been working for Hank's Auto for eleven years now and with everyone in the house working minus our Rottweiler Back-Up, he could finally afford to only work at Hank's. He wouldn't have had to if Mom hadn't fucked everything up but she did and he never complained, not once. 

Giving his shin a little kick, he shouted before rolling out from beneath the shitty old station wagon to stare up at me, his look of annoyance quickly becoming one of joy. "Tavi? Baby girl, what're you doing here?" His shouts echoed throughout the near empty garage as he stood up and bear hugged me. 

"I left Stanford." I shrugged, pulling away and reaching up wipe some motor oil from his face. His hands were a lost cause, they were essentially permanently stained with the gunk. 

"You didn't drop out did ya?" First Finnerty to go to college, my baby girl, that's what he announced to everyone at the Alibi. I had been the only one who wanted to go actually. 

"No Pop, I transferred to Chicago Polytechnic." I cringed at the name. After Mandy had lost in rock, paper, scissors with Ian and Mickey, she'd broken the news that I'd be sharing a campus with Lip. But if I could figure out a way into Stanford, I could figure out a way to avoid him right?

"Isn't that where L-" I cut him off with a hand and nodded, stilling making the cringe face. 

"Yeah, yeah, it is. I didn't know that then but I know it now and I can't transfer again so I'm stuck." I decided it was time to change the subject and produced a brown rolled up paper bag that held my famous sub sandwich. Specifically, a steak and swiss cheese with jalapeños and tomatoes, all drowned in mayo. Just the way Pops likes it. "My coming back gift to you for letting me take my old room back."

"Ah, you're bribing your old man. Nice job baby girl but you know that you don't need to do that to come back. We always love you at the house, it's your home." He smiled as he snatched the bag and walked towards the kitchen to wash his hands. I followed slowly behind. "So, since you made it clear that your brothers and I beating up the young man that broke your heart was out of the question, what're you gonna do about him?"

It was a loaded question. What does one do when faced with having to continue to attend school with the same boy that you just travelled two thousand miles to get away from? Here's the answer that kept me up all night besides Mickey's boner pressing against my back as Ian spooned him. 

"Nothing. I'm gonna do nothing."

I'm a fucking genius huh?

//

The long way to Hank's takes forty minutes from Mickey's but an hour from mine, when you're walking that is. The short way, the way I had taken most of my life, took twenty minutes to get to my house and it involved passing by the Gallagher house. Earlier, when the sun was out and I was wearing my big parka, I took the long way. But I'm not an idiot, the long way involves passing by enough alleys that getting into some serious trouble was inevitable. 

So I took the short way. In hindsight, I could've dealt with the long way had push come to shove. I had a switchblade. 

The lights were all on, as per usual, and noise drifted out onto the streets. Maybe I should say hi. He'd be back at college this time of year anyways so I'd say hi and get it over with. Decent enough idea.

My feet made very little noise as I walked up the stairs towards the door and I knocked. I waited a beat as I heard Debbie yell something to Carl before opening the door. " --k you Carl! You're disgusting!" She screamed over her shoulder, not looking at me. 

"Isn't he though?" I quirked an eyebrow as Debbie whipped her head to look at me before screaming. I grinned as she practically knocked me back while hugging me. She didn't waste a second pulling me into the house and planting me on the couch, the very one with all my favorite and least favorite memories. Oh joy.


End file.
